Battling The Elements
by ComeJosephine
Summary: A story where Jack and Rose are still on the Titanic. Jack ends up on the Boat Deck while Rose is still below, searching for him. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1: The Bowels of a Doomed Ship

"Can anybody hear me?!" Jack screamed, his voice going hoarse. He'd been trying in vain to attract attention for at least fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. No luck - no one would come down this far into the bowels of a doomed ship. Except maybe Rose, and she wouldn't even know how to begin to find him. Knowing her mother and Cal, she'd already be on a lifeboat, warm and safe. Not that he minded that she was safe - it was all he wanted for her - but to be honest, it didn't help his current situation any. Frustrated, he leaned his head against the icy white metal of the pole he was chained to.

The sounds of trickling water behind him attracted his attention. He spun around and saw water beginning to creep slowly under the crack of the door. "Oh, shit! Oh, shit!!" Jack said aloud, knowing no one would hear him. He scrambled onto a desk nearby, wrapping his arms around the top of the metal support. There had to be some way to get these blasted things off his wrists.

Suddenly he heard running footsteps coming from far down the corridor, coming in his direction. "Help!" he yelled. "Help me! I'm trapped!" The footsteps paused. Jack's heart leaped up in his throat. "Help me!"

The door swung open. A man stood there, his flaming red hair and shabby tweed cap labeling him as an obvious Irishman. "Blimey, what you doin' chained to that pole?" he said, dumbfounded. Jack gritted his teeth. "Just help me off of here," he said, and the man jumped and ran over to him, pulling out a switchblade as he spoke.

"Cor, these things are tight!" he said as he began filing at the thick metal chains. Jack glanced at the door again. Water was pouring into the room rapidly. "Hurry, hurry," he said through clenched teeth.

And then, like a miracle, Jack felt his hands go slack. The man was grinning and pocketing his blade. Jack lifted his hands, not believing he was free, and let out a whoop of joy.

"C'mon!" said the man, and Jack suddenly realized he was now up to his thighs, his pants drenched in icy seawater. "Right, let's go!" he said, and the two ran as fast as they could out of the master at arm's office.

Climbing, nearly slipping, a set of plain white metal stairs, Jack nearly fainted with relief when he heard voices again. They darted down the hall, dripping water, and came to a small knot of steerage passengers gathered before a small gate. A steward was on the other side, trying to reassure the frantic people.

"Go back to the main stairwell, and everything will be sorted out there," he said in a rather nasal voice. The crowd shouted angrily, and the man repeated his request. A burly man gripped the gates tightly and yelled angrily, "For God's sake, man, there are women and children down here! Let us out so we can have a chance!" Jack watched the man's cold stare and knew he would not give in to the frantic plea.

"They're not letting us out this way!" cried the Irishman. Jack turned around, looking for an inspiration, and spotted a bench bolted to the floor. "Help me lift this bench!" he called, then shouted "Move aside!" as he jerked on the firm wooden back. His rescuer did the same.

"Put that down! Stop that!" the steward was shouting, but now Jack and the man had freed the bench and were preparing to shove it into the gate. "One... two... three!" Jack roared, and he and the man ran at the gate. It came off halfway, bent double as if in pain.

"Stop that!" the steward shouted again, but Jack and the Irishman rammed the bench into the gate again, and it gave way. Jack immediately dropped the bench as the knot of people surged forward and over the ruins of the gate.

**A/N: A new story! About "Titanic", of course. =) If you like the way this one begins, and haven't read my other story (Two Worlds, One Family) then I suggest you read that! And, as always, R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2: No Sign Of Him

_"C'mon, Rose. You're next, darlin'."_

_"Come into the boat, Rose... Rose! Get into the boat!"_

_"Good-bye, Mother."_

Rose replayed the recent conversation over and over in her mind, especially (with much satisfaction) the part where she'd spit in Cal's face as he tried to prevent her from saving Jack. She didn't belong to him anymore, she wasn't going to be his porcelain doll. All she wanted was Jack.

But where was Jack?

"Mr. Andrews!" she called, running up and down the first-class corridors and lobbies, looking in vain for the shipbuilder. She knew it was he who could help her find Jack, but Thomas Andrews was as lost to her as Jack at the moment.

"Mr. Andrews!" she called, panic rising in her voice, and then she rounded a corner and spotted him with relief, checking in on a first-class stateroom. "Mr. Andrews... thank God... where would the master-at-arms take someone under arrest?" she said quickly, words tumbling from her mouth like the ice from the iceberg, onto the deck.

"What? You have to get to a boat right away-" Thomas Andrews began, but Rose cut him off sharply. "No!" Her voice softened slightly. "I'm doing this with or without your help, sir. But without will take longer." The shipbuilder hesitated.

"Take the elevator to the very bottom, go to the left, down the crewman's passage. Then go right, and left again, you'll come to a long corridor." Rose nodded, repeating the words softly to herself, then before Mr. Andrews could say another word she darted off to find him.

Sprinting down the Grand Staircase, she nearly collided with unhurried first-class passengers milling about the base. A middle-aged couple was standing by the lifts, arguing politely with the lift operator. "The lifts are closed-" he was saying, and Rose tried to elbow her way past him. He blocked her with his arm.

"I'm sorry, miss, but the lifts are closed," he said in a slightly bored voice. Hot anger surged through her vains, and she grabbed the man's lapels furiously. "I'm through being polite, God dammit! Now take me down!" she cried, shoving the man back into the lift. He pushed the lever fearfully, and Rose slammed the grilles shut. "E deck."

She trembled as the lift descended slowly, the shadows being cast slowly over her pale face. As they neared the bottom, a strange sound reached her ears, like water running when a tap is left on. But the sound grew increasingly louder with each inch dropped....

Suddenly, with a rush, icy water spilled through the gaps in the lift. Rose screamed, and the liftboy, his eyes wide and fearful, and cried, "I'm going back up!" He dashed for the handle, but Rose beat him to it. "No!" she struggled, wrenching open the grilles and dashing out into the water, now well up to her thighs. It was freezing.

"I'm going back up! I'm going back up!" cried the liftboy in a panicky voice, and true to his word, the lift began to rise. Rose watched it, horror-struck for a moment, then waded through the water as fast as she could. She reached the crew passage, went right, went left.... no sign of anything.

"Jack!" she cried. No answer. "Jack! Jack!!" Over and over she screamed his name, growing increasingly hoarse, but no one answered. She looked in every door she passed. No Jack. No sign of him anywhere.


	3. Chapter 3: Hoping Beyond Hope

Somewhere along the way, Jack had lost track of his rescuer. But that didn't especially matter to him anymore. All he cared about now was finding Cal, to ask him if Rose had gotten off safely, if she was all right. Anxiously, he scrambled up another set of white metal stairs, not unlike the ones he had climbed from the master-at-arms's office, and found himself on the Boat Deck, near the stern. The deck had an evident tilt toward the bow.

A throng of people milled about, some still looking remotely calm and collected, others nervous wrecks. Women were sobbing and clinging to their husbands... children screamed and cried... the ship's officers were getting more and more worried. And he saw no sign of anyone he knew - Rose, Fabri, Tommy, Cal, even Ruth... no one was there.

Jack scrambled down the length of the Boat Deck, frantic. There must be someone he knew up here, someone who knew him! The creaking of the ropes lowering Lifeboat 12 was loud in his ears, but not nearly as loud as his own heartbeat. Brilliant white lights from the numerous flares lit up the sky. He hastened on.

It was now 1:25 in the morning, according to someone nearby who was telling the time to his wife. The iceberg had hit the side nearly two hours ago, Jack realized. But then he couldn't think of that now. He had to find out what happened to Rose.

Now he was all the way forward, next to the bridge. Water was well over the bow, he could see, and flooding onto the forward anchor. Jack watched it disappear underneath the green water for a few minutes. Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke quietly in his hear.

"Hello, Dawson." And then the metallic click of a gun.

Cal.

"What do you want?" Jack asked, not moving for fear that Cal would shoot him. Cal chuckled softly, but Jack knew nothing was funny to Cal right now.

"You know exactly what I want. It's what you want too." Jack's brow furrowed as he watched the bow in front of him; now the deck was covered as well.

"Rose," Cal answered for him. Jack paled, and, quite forgetting the gun in Cal's hand, whirled around. "You mean she wasn't put on a lifeboat?" he snarled incredulously. Cal sneered. "No, you son of a bitch, she was looking for you!" But Jack was already off running.

_This is all my fault_, he groaned inwardly. _I should have known she'd come looking for me. She probably couldn't have done anything, but at least I would have had the safety of mind to send her off where I knew she'd be safe._ Who knew where she was now?

He scurried down the Grand Staircase, hoping beyond hope that she'd be there. But, of course, she wasn't. She wasn't anywhere in sight. She was probably below decks-

Jack's blood ran cold, remembering how much water had already built up by the time he'd escaped E Deck. Where was the water level now - while Rose was down there?


End file.
